


It'll be us and only us.

by whatlighttasteslike (waitingforeleven)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Near Future, Outer Space, Season 5 spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 04:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforeleven/pseuds/whatlighttasteslike
Summary: Imprisoned in space, Jemma is determined to find a way to communicate with Fitz, but she needs his help to make it happen.





	It'll be us and only us.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for thefitzsimmonsnetwork‘s Fanfiction Friday Challenge - For Science. Prompt: _Fitz and Simmons invent something together._
> 
> Title from _Dear Evan Hansen_. I would also recommend listening to the song [Only Us](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPvO1sZkOx0) from the musical for additional FS feels, as I listened to it on repeat while writing this. 

Today was the only day her plan was going to work. Jemma had memorized his schedule, as random as it seemed, and figured out their lunch breaks would align on this particular Tuesday. Well, whatever day it was, as it was getting more and more difficult to remember the days of the week after so much time spent on the unfamiliar base. She had sometimes imagined what it would be like to work in space, but her current predicament was not what she had in mind. Being taken against her will with the team was one thing, but to be separated from everyone and forced to perform labor without any context for what they were trying to accomplish was draining. She honestly didn’t mind the work, as simplistic as it was, but what was truly agonizing was being separated from the most important person in her life for what seemed like centuries.

When she made her way into the common area with her lunch tray – a modest meal, but it would suffice – it only took moments for her to spot him in the corner of the room occupying a table by his lonesome. The sight of him made her heart sink – she had hoped he would connect with someone on the base while he worked, maybe make a friend or two, but that obviously wasn’t the case. Nevertheless, she welcomed the opportunity to finally have some alone time with him, even if it would only last a few minutes.

After approaching his table casually, she carefully placed her tray down on the surface opposite his, not wanting to startle him, as he appeared to be concentrating rather intensely on the sad excuse for a sandwich on his plate. As she sat on the bench, he glanced up quickly before returning his eyes to his tray.

“Fitz,” she whispered, reaching out her hand across the table before thinking better of it and pulling it back into her lap. The last time she held his hand was on their way to the diner before they were taken, a far off memory she held onto each night while she tried to find sleep in her dark cell, his own cell many hallways away. She worried herself sick thinking about the nightmares that most likely plagued his mind, but today he appeared okay, or as okay as he could be. At least he was eating.

When he didn’t respond, she took a deep breath before trying again. “How have you been?”

Finally, he raised his head, and she could look into his eyes for the first time. He didn’t seem to be on the verge of breaking as he did when she found him in the containment pod after AIDA’s escape. His eyes were still tired, his face sporting a heavier beard than she was used to seeing, but it was still him. And if she looked close enough, she could see a sliver of hope shining through.

He swallowed hard before forming a response. “I’m alright,” he said softly.  

She nodded, knowing she wasn’t bound to get much more out of him at this point, so she leaned forward to speak more intently. “I know we only have a few minutes, so I won’t waste any time.” Scooting onto the edge of the bench, she reached her hand under the table to find his knee, pulling out the small objects she had been hiding up her sleeve all morning. “I figured out a way for us to communicate, but I need your help to complete it.”

His eyes narrowed, but once he placed his own hand on his knee and took the objects from her, she saw recognition cross his face. The small plastic identification cards were identical to the one hanging from his belt loop. They weren’t simply used for accessing their living quarters and assigned work areas – they were also small tablets to communicate with leadership on the base, the closest thing to a smartphone any of them had encountered since being taken prisoner. The messages were never anything more than changes in schedules or new assignments, but the ID cards provided a rare opportunity that Jemma jumped on immediately. Even if there wasn’t a way to escape the base, at least she could create a way to connect with Fitz.

Jemma pulled her hands back and placed them both on the table in front of her. “It would be a private network. Only the two of us. But I would need you to set up the connection and install the fingerprint technology. Mine’s already scanned – I just need you to calibrate it properly.” She heard him sigh slightly, but she continued. “I based the technology off of Fury’s toolbox, so only we can operate them. To anyone else, they would simply look like blank ID cards.”

As she explained her plan, he managed to slide down the bench a bit in order to discreetly place the cards in his pocket. But when he straightened up, he shook his head.

“Jemma, it’s too dangerous.”

“We’ll be fine,” she insisted.

“How did you even get your hands on these?”

She paused, knowing he already knew the answer. “Elena.”

“Of course,” he muttered.

“No one is going to find out. They’re small enough to keep with our own ID cards undetected. Plus, our cells don’t have security feeds. I’ve checked – it’s just the hallways, so they won’t even see us using them. And even if they did, it would just look like we’re communicating with our supervisors.”

“ _Jemma_.”

Unable to resist the urge any longer, she reached her hand across the table and placed it on top of his, squeezing it gently. “ _Please_. I just want to talk to you.”

He stared at their hands for a moment, a dazed look on his face before he nodded ever so slightly. “Alright, I’ll look at it.”

Giving his hand another squeeze, Jemma tried her best to downplay the smile that threatened to consume her face. The guards at the common room entrance were already giving them wary looks, and she didn’t want to push that suspicion any further.  

Fitz returned his eyes to his tray and pulled his hand away to pick up the uneaten half of his sandwich. “But I’m not making any promises,” he mumbled before taking a pathetic bite.

 

\-----

 

Three days passed without Jemma hearing a word from Fitz, but she knew it would be too dangerous for him to approach her with the calibrated card directly. She prayed he didn’t simply abandon the plan altogether, deeming it too much of a risk for her life, it being her idea to steal the cards in the first place, but she still hoped he would follow through.

On the fourth night since seeing Fitz that day, Jemma stretched on her small cot attempting to find a more comfortable sleeping position when she heard what she thought was wind whooshing past her cell door. She turned her head, but saw nothing at the door, not even a silhouetted figure standing outside. At this point in her imprisonment, she figured her mind was getting the better of her and she was simply hearing things, but upon closer inspection, she saw what appeared to be a small rectangle that had been slipped under her door.

Lurching off her cot, she scrambled to collect the card off the floor, and then quickly gathered herself in the center of her mattress to unlock the tablet feature. She placed her thumb at the bottom of the card and a screen lit up, granting her access. Without hesitation, she typed out the first message and hit send, hoping with everything within her that his calibration worked.

> _Fitz?_

Already impatient for his response, she typed out additional messages to keep her mind from racing of all the ways this could go wrong.

> _Are you there?_
> 
> _Please say something._
> 
> _Anything._

A few minutes passed without a response, so Jemma sank into her pillow, figuring the connection didn’t work within their cells and their tablets were useless. Fitz had probably tried everything he could before returning the card to her, so she wasn’t too disappointed - more frustrated than anything else. But a few seconds later, the tablet lit up next to her pillow, creating a small halo of light within the dark cell. Jemma propped herself up on her arm and picked it up, squinting her eyes at the screen. The short message was enough for her breath to catch in her throat.

> **_I miss you_ ** _._

Jemma placed her hand over her mouth to stifle the whimper that almost escaped. She truly didn’t know what he was going to say, but those three simple words seemed like the very thing she needed to hear.

With shaking hands, she typed out her response.

> _I miss you, too._ _How are you feeling?_

It didn’t take nearly as long for another message to come through, Jemma never taking her eyes off the screen.

> **_I’m okay._ **
> 
> _That well, huh?_
> 
> **_I’m getting there._ **

Taking in a shuddering breath, she let out a subtle sigh of relief. Fitz was never one to exaggerate his own progress, preferring to stay quiet. But this small acknowledgement brought her a comfort she didn’t know she needed.  

> _That’s good._
> 
> **_What about you?_ **
> 
> _I’m okay._
> 
> **_That well, huh?_ **

Jemma couldn’t help but chuckle. If they had been sitting next to each other in that moment, he would have probably elbowed her in the ribs.

> _Shut it._
> 
> _But not really. Keep talking._
> 
> **_I’m glad you’re okay._ **
> 
> _Me too._

Suddenly, she felt the need to tell him a million things at once - how it was okay if he truly _wasn’t_ okay, and how she wanted to be there for him in any way he needed. They hadn’t spoken about the Framework or _anything_ for that matter, and they were long due for a conversation about the state of their relationship. But for now, she settled on a simple message that summed up most of her current feelings.

> _I miss your voice._
> 
> **_I miss your smile_ ** _._
> 
> _I’m smiling right now._

It wasn’t a lie. She _was_ smiling, even if the tears collecting in her eyes were making it difficult to read the screen.

> **_We’re going to figure this out._ **
> 
> _I know we will._
> 
> **_You should get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow._ **
> 
> _I’ll try._ _It’s not the same without you here._
> 
> **_I know. Like I said, we’ll figure this out._ **
> 
> **_Goodnight Jemma._ **
> 
> _Goodnight Fitz._

At once, the messages disappeared, a feature she assumed he added for additional safety. Clutching the tablet to her chest, she pulled the thin blanket around her and sank deeper into her pillow, a sudden calm washing over her limbs and mind. Even if she couldn’t reread the messages, as she often used to do when he sent her texts with mission updates, a small comfort and reminder that he was okay and coming back to her, just the feeling of the small object sitting against her heart was enough for her to know that he was there - just a click away.


End file.
